


Where To Begin

by ceinno



Series: Ciriskier [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Destiny, F/M, Fate & Destiny, First Meetings, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, No Sex, No Smut, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Relationship, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Red String of Fate, Short One Shot, Soulmates, Underage - Freeform, Underage Character(s), Weird Plot Shit, Young Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceinno/pseuds/ceinno
Summary: No one would've been able to guess that at the end of their string of fate, a person would find the ward their best friend had claimed by Law of Surprise.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Ciriskier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815436
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Where To Begin

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to at least post one crappy oneshot for this ship if I'm never going to finish my full ideas/drafts/wips for ciriskier.
> 
> Self indulgent trash. Posted at 4:20 am my time.

Her eyes are green, like chaos glowing behind the veil of space and time.

Her hair like starlight, woven in shimmering waves that crash down her shoulders. 

She's a mess, muddied and exhausted, so very out of place in these dreary woods that can't even begin to frame her beauty. 

Jaskier chokes on all his words he suddenly doesn't know how to speak. They're lost to the whims of his treacherous heart.

Soft, vulnerable, he felt it beat inside his throat and ears. It pounded beneath his fingertips, and it even pounds low in his stomach like a never-ending drum. 

His body at war within himself. 

He couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. It's the last war he's worried over, sad but the true the case. No, what worried him more was the glare of Geralt's gaze burning into him. 

Jaskier was still staring into Cirilla's own eyes when he felt them, and still, he couldn't bring himself to face his friend— his best friend— and instead looked down. 

The red string had been shortening for weeks and he never thought twice. 

And yet...

"Jaskier," that familiar, rough voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

Finally looking to Geralt, Jaskier found himself able to swallow the lump that had kept him quiet. 

"I can see you're upset, Geralt. Don't behave as if I planned this."

"She's a _child_ , Jaskier."

That he definitely understood. Again, he hadn't planned this. How could he? Destiny had always been unpredictable.

Not even Geralt had control over it, and Jaskier least of all. He was only a bard. And as if he would plan this. 

"For the love of Melitele-"

A soft lilt cut his words short, and Jaskier paused as Cirilla spoke up beside the Witcher at her side. 

"I– He... he's my Destiny, Geralt... Another edge to my sword... Just like you are."

It had only been a whisper, but her words held strong. She spoke as Jaskier had seen princesses speak. Determined, assured. But relieved in a way.

In a world as cruel as theirs, finding your soulmate was a rare occurrence. Most left the hopes of finding theirs in their childhoods, a whimsical fantasy of finding the person meant for you.

Monsters, wars, everything denied that happiness to many and so the hope died out. Red strings fading away over denial.

Jaskier had come close many times on giving up on it as well. He had chased Geralt, chased women and men across the Continent, hoping to find someone who would ease the pain of never finding a soulmate. He had clung to it all the same, through every pain. His string he had kept wrapped tight. 

After the harshness the Princess had seen, it should have died with her as well. But it had been there, muffled in her heart, wrapped in her ribcage and bounding itself to the man across the clearing. That spark of hope for happiness, a promise that things could be alright. 

It was something even Geralt couldn't have heart to deny or take away. 

Cirilla then turned back to the bard, eyes sharp and green on Jaskier. Searching, claiming. He wouldn't expect her to trust him, even if they were bound, even if Geralt was– had been his friend. 

He had been lucky to track down the Witcher making his way towards Kaer Morhen. Now he wondered if he should've chased after him to begin with. 

Would his role in Cirilla's life have changed what became of her? Would she not have been a Child Surprise if he had never brought Geralt to that banquet?

It didn't matter much now. Not when she stared at him as if he might hold her destruction or salvation. 

Soulmates were not always kind. 

"Jaskier... The Master Bard, correct?" She finally asked, hesitant. 

He nodded quickly, wetting his lips and shifting to tuck his lute along his back. Before, when he had imagined his and Cirilla's first meeting, he expected entertaining the girl with silly gestures and words.

In the face of his soulmate, his heart raced between his eardrums. The rush of blood only leaving him stupid and lost for words.

"Yes– yes, or at the very least I hope so."

Her laugh was bright and almost twinkling amongst the shadows slowly creeping into the forest, night crawling slow up the horizon and through the trees. 

"A bard ... When I was a princess, I thought I'd be fated to a knight."

"Pompous bastards," Jaskier muttered, blurting it out before he could hold himself. 

Cirilla laughed only warmer. Her feet slowly brought her away from Geralt's protective space and across the small meadow they had crossed in. When she was merely feet from Jaskier, her smile beamed up at him. 

It smoothed over, but couldn't hide the face of a young girl who had seen the fall of a kingdom. Her kingdom. 

"Bastards indeed... I'm glad to meet you, Jaskier."

 _Soulmate_ clung to the air between them. A tingling awareness that was present even as they kept their eyes glued to one another. As if they couldn't pull away. 

Jaskier knew he should be careful if not for Cirilla, then at most to keep him safe from Geralt's growing agitation. 

"And I you," the bard breathed. "Cirilla."

His fingers rubbed together and he let his gaze fall down to her own hands. Red tied tight along her ring finger, and the string barely feet long.

"Ciri," she said as she stepped closer. The string shortened, and Geralt tensed before trying to get closer to them. "Call me Ciri, Jaskier."

The girl grabbed his hand and stopped his fidgeting. The string– cut as their fingers clasped.

Geralt was now beside them, pulling the two apart, but it was too late. Red string gone, both Jaskier and Cirilla looked flushed as if having ran miles. 

It felt like it after years of hoping for a soulmate. 

The bard let himself be pushed away from Cirilla. He even watched, hazily as his best friend checked the princess over, as if Jaskier had hurt her.

She only shoved her guardian away and twisted to look to the other man. A dizzying smile shone at him, and that ache that had simmered in his heart was gone. 

It seemed Jaskier had been wrong all those years ago. 

He may very well not die a brokenhearted man. 

**Author's Note:**

> I made a discord server for this ship and then remembered I'm the only person in this lifeboat.
> 
> You can have my shitty ship playlist though.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1GAtn5UwnrNLMMiXpvuiKl?si=zT2XLoscSxmwNPvY28aKnQ


End file.
